


The Air That I Breathe

by Abagail_Snow



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:53:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abagail_Snow/pseuds/Abagail_Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer before college, Peeta is ready to cut ties with Panem entirely.  That is until a former crush is reignited at the local amusement park.  Modern Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Air That I Breathe

Arena Park was the old amusement park on the outskirts of Panem. It wasn't a tourist attraction with barreling, death defying roller coasters, or whimsical European themes. That was Capitol Adventures, only two exits down the highway. Arena Park was closer to a permanent carnival. Its main attraction was a rickety Ferris wheel which was barely 50ft tall, and the lone wooden roller coaster with its unimpressive hills could be outrun by a bumper car.

Peeta Mellark had not been to Arena Park in years – not since he was a kid. In fact, he was quite surprised to learn that it was still operating the summer after his senior year of high school when he was looking for employment. See, to work at Capitol Adventures, which paid a whole $10 an hour, you needed experience, and to _get_ experience, you needed to work at Arena Park. At least that was the chain of command he'd learned from his good friend Delly Cartwright, who'd been working at Arena Park since she was 13.

Delly wasn't the type who worked for money though. Delly was the type who worked for the memories and the lifelong friends. “Honestly Pete, at Capitol they only know their employees by a job number,” she'd told him when he had shown apprehension at settling for the lesser paying gig. “What sort of enriching experience is that?”

Peeta had swallowed his words at this. He had plenty of friends in school and was sociable enough to easily make casual acquaintances, which were the only types of relationships he was really looking for at this point.

Peeta's main objective was to make enough money to move out of Panem come September. He'd already been accepted into a prestigious art program in New York with a scholarship to cover most of the tuition. All except for room and board. A hefty fee that his mother had refused to chip in on because she felt an education in art was a waste of money.

Working at his parent's bakery was classified as a chore – one for which he was not paid, leaving him with no other option but to seek employment elsewhere. At Arena Park specifically.

The park was run by a drunk named Haymitch Abernathy and the interview process was no more than a few monosyllabic grunts before a faded burgundy polo with an embroidered logo was shoved into Peeta's chest.

“Burgundy? That means you work in the concession stands,” Delly explained to him since Mr. Abernathy certainly wasn't going to give him any instructions. Delly wore yellow, which was for running games on the midway. “And they're the ride operators,” she said pointing at a pair in dark green on the far side of the courtyard.

Peeta only vaguely recognized the guy. Gale something. He was a few years older. Old enough that stubble peppered his sharp looking jaw. And even though he was lean, he carried himself with a sturdiness that was quite intimidating. Which made the realization that the girl beside him, with her dark plaited braid swinging behind her, was none other than Katniss Everdeen that much harder to swallow.

“Katniss works here?” Peeta said, trying to swallow the nervousness that trembled his voice.

“Yeah, she's worked her the past few summers,” Delly said with a casual shrug. She paused, her eyes widening in recognition as a grin lit up her round face. “You don't still like her, do you?”

Peeta could feel his cheeks darken and he attempted to shield his embarrassment with a bark of laughter. “Oh course not,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

“You do!” she squealed.

He sighed, hoping to drop the subject by turning to the concession stand that he had been assigned to. It was a small square shack situated behind a few rows of picnic tables with a service window that ran the entire length of the building. There was only a small microwave oven tucked beside a wall of fryers bubbling with tar like grease, and a soda fountain on the far wall, with its nozzles clogged by sugary syrup.

Peeta filled a basin with soda water and began chipping away at the jammed soda heads to properly soak them.

“Peeta Mellark!” Delly huffed, still at his heel. “I will not let you change the subject so easily!”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, grunting when he pried away the last nozzle.

“You've been in love with Katniss Everdeen since kindergarten! I can't believe I forgot about your crush on her.”

His eyes narrowed into slits at his friend. Yes, he had had a crush on Katniss in elementary school, one that had extended throughout most of junior high, but she had barely acknowledged his existence. Usually he'd had an easy time flirting with girls. He could make them smile and laugh, and he had no problem playing with their hair when they leaned into him, or kissing them when they brushed their lips against his, or sometimes more when that's what they were doing.

With Katniss though, he always froze. To the point that he hadn't even _thought_ of the possibility of being with her in years. Not on purpose anyway. Sometimes she'd creep up on him when he least expected it. Like right now, standing only 100 yards away from him. The same distance they'd be separated everyday for the rest of the summer.

“Hey Katniss,” he heard Delly shout, and Peeta panicked, quickly ducking behind the counter when he saw that she was approaching them. Delly hoisted herself onto the edge of the counter, the heel of her sneakers kicking against the concession stand. “You know Peeta, right?”

“Sure.”

Katniss poked her head through the service window, looking at Peeta curiously where he was crouched on the floor. He smiled sheepishly and stood to his feet.

“Hey,” he said.

“Can I get a corn dog?” was what she said next.

“What?”

She sighed impatiently. “A corn dog. Aren't you serving lunch yet? My break's only fifteen minutes and I'm starving.”

“Right,” he said, a bit disoriented as he rushed to fire up the fryers.

“Peeta's a really great cook,” Delly said. “Well baker anyway. You know he decorates all the cakes at his parents bakery?”

“Neat,” Katniss said, her smile thin as she reached through the service window to fill a plastic cup with water.

“Peeta, what are those rolls that you make? You should make those rolls here, I bet the customers would love them!”

Peeta found a box of corn dogs in the freezer and dropped a few into a fryer basket. He glanced at Katniss who was staring down at her shoes as if the pattern of the stitching was a rendering of the Mona Lisa.

“I don't know Delly,” Peeta said carefully, taking note of Katniss's disinterest. “I think they only have nacho cheese here. And whatever kind of cheese is flash frozen to all those pizzas.” He hooked his thumb towards the cooler with a grin, which quickly faded when he recognized that Katniss was still ignoring them.

The corn dogs began to float at the top of the oil and Peeta drained them before handing one over to Katniss, who mumbled a thank you before hurrying back to the roller coaster she ran with Gale.

“She's really nice,” Delly decided after the exchange. “I think she likes you.”

Peeta rolled his eyes. He didn't know much, but one thing he was certain of was that Katniss Everdeen hated him.

“I bet,” he said, slightly deflated.

Through the clearing in the trees that separated the concession stand from the rides, he could see that Katniss had adopted a new demeanor entirely in the presence of Gale. Engaged in conversation and at one point even smiling. A genuine one.

The french fries he had been cooking began to smoke, bringing him back to attention. He wasn't looking for that type of thing, Peeta reminded himself. In a few months he'd be as good as gone. Away from this life anyway.

A life that didn't include girls like Katniss Everdeen.

 

* * *

 

The next afternoon he was ready for her, with a pan roasting beneath the line of heat lamps with everything off the menu.

Her work polo was too big for her petite frame, the sleeves drooping halfway down her arms, and only the front of her hunter green shirt was tucked into her khaki shorts. She was reweaving her mused up hair into a braid as she approached him, but had missed a few strands that clung to her temples.

“Corn dog?”

He blinked a few times, caught off guard by her spell again.

“Right. Sure.” He fished one out by the end of its wooden stick and extending it to her. “You know,” he said, lifting it out of her reach as she went to take it. “I was reading the box this morning and corn isn't even an ingredient.”

“Oh?” she said. She reached for it again and he moved it out of her grasp.

“Well maybe the tenth ingredient. But that's awfully low on the list for having your name in the title.”

“It's made with real dog at least, right?”

He grimaced, but his mouth quickly curled into a grin. “All beef, unfortunately.”

“It'll have to do,” she said, and this time he handed her her lunch. Unlike the day before, she didn't leave immediately. Instead she leaned against the counter on the service window and took a bite from her corn dog. “Where's your friend?” she said between chews.

Peeta lifted an eyebrow. “Delly?” Katniss shrugged. “She's over at the midway, stealing people's money.” Most of those carnival games were impossible to win anyway, so she may as well be stealing.

“She's _nice_ ,” Katniss said, but coming from her it didn't seem like a compliment. “She sure likes your buns.”

Peeta smiled shyly. Delly had only been trying to talk him up to impress her.

“Hey, you're the one who's ended up with my wiener in her mouth two days in a row,” he said, waving his finger towards her corn dog. He froze, his eyes widening. Had he just said that to Katniss Everdeen? He braced himself behind the counter for whatever wrath this would entail.

“You said it was all beef, right?”

He blinked rapidly. Was she flirting with him? He leaned his weight on his elbows to keep from falling over. His chuckle was nervous, but he hoped she didn't notice.

“I'll let you check the package if you'd like.”

“I'm good, thanks,” she said. Finishing off the last bite of her corn dog, she handed the stick back to him.

Peeta held it, pinched between his fingers as he watched her cross the walkway. Finally, after a long moment he released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

Not going to happen, he reminded himself with a helpless groan.

 

* * *

 

One Friday there was a party at Gale's. He was already in college, a local one on the far side of town, and he lived in a rented house with a couple of guys. Peeta had been invited, but was reluctant to attend. Katniss would be there after all, and whatever she was with Gale would become all too obvious when blended with an intimate setting and alcohol.

Peeta had almost fooled himself into thinking that Katniss liked him. There wasn't any particular reason. She came to his stand everyday for lunch and they would make jokes for those fifteen minutes, but how much could fifteen minutes really mean? That was something Peeta didn't really want to know. He was trying to keep everything casual anyway. There was no reason to make anymore ties to a town he was already done with.

He was relieved when his friend, Finnick, invited him out that same night, so Peeta could decline Gale's offer without being weighed by any guilt. Besides, Finnick went to school on the other side of the country and was only home for the summer. This was the first time Peeta had a chance to hang out with him, and a few of his other graduated friends were coming out too.

The only problem was that the party Finnick had invited him to was the same party he had been trying to avoid. And so Peeta sat awkwardly on Gale's front porch, nursing a beer that was now too warm to drink.

The front door creaked open, and Peeta flinched when he recognized the voice attached to his newest company. “Hey,” Katniss said, climbing down the porch steps to stand before him on the lawn. “Where's your friend?”

It took him a minute to realize who she was talking about. “Delly?” She nodded. “Oh, this isn't really her scene,” he said, gesturing towards his beer. Delly loved to socialize but alcohol wasn't the type of social lubricant she was willing to endorse.

“I can sympathize.”

Peeta lifted his eyebrows. “You don't drink?”

“Oh no,” she said. “That's the only reason I show up to these things. It's the people who aren't my scene.”

“You? Misanthropic? Shocking,” he said drily, swishing a mouthful of warm beer to shut himself up.

“And I thought Peeta Mellark was supposed to be the life of every party.” His eyes darted up to meet hers. What did Katniss Everdeen know about him?

“Does it sound like anyone misses me in there?” he said. He didn't mean to sound bitter. In fact, up until that moment he had never been particularly unhappy with his life. “I'm beginning to think people aren't my scene either.”

“Welcome to the party then,” she said, lifting her cup in a toast before taking a swig. She swallowed thickly and choked back a fit of coughs that brought tears to her eyes.

“What are you drinking?”

She tipped the mouth of her cup to inspect the contents and cleared her throat of the burning liquid. “It's the house cocktail. A blend of all their bottom shelf liquors with a splash of Gatorade. They call it the Boston Tea Party because it's better suited to be dumped into a harbor than actually consumed. It's pretty rough.”

Peeta grimaced playfully then took a sip from his beer. The liquid warmed his chest and eased chuckle from his throat. “You're funny, you know that?” he said offhandedly. The alcohol must have affected him more than he realized, because he didn't stop there, even though he had intended to. “I always thought you were just mean, but you're funny too.”

Katniss arched an eyebrow and Peeta couldn't tell if it was an amused gesture or a sign that she was about to murder him. His entire body tightened when she took a few steps closer to lean against the porch railing. “You too,” she said. “All this time I thought you were vapid because you were so attractive, but you're not entirely annoying.”

“Thanks, I think,” he said, snatching her cup away from her to take a drink.

 _Attractive_. He tried not to make too much of it, but when he caught sight of her in the corner of his eye, her cheeks a bit flush from more than just the alcohol, he thought that maybe he could.

 

* * *

 

The next day she approached his concession stand just like any other day. He had a few customers at the time, and she made herself at home, serving herself a corn dog in a paper tray and even pouring herself a foamy cup of beer.

“You doing anything later?” she asked, after he'd served his last customer. She licked her finger clean of mustard, but she missed a dab at the corner of her mouth, which he couldn't stop staring at.

“What?” he said, running his hand through his hair uneasily.

“After work. Are you busy?” she elaborated, washing down the last bit of her lunch with a gulp of beer.

“Um, no,” he said. He busied himself by plucking a few keys on the cash register until the drawer popped open with a loud ding. Keeping his cool around Katniss Everdeen was never a specialty of his. “Why? Did you want to do something?”

“I'm supposed to clean out the main office,” she said. “Haymitch is a total slob. It gets pretty nasty in there. Sort of a two man job.”

Peeta eyed the tap, hesitating for a moment before pouring a cup of his own. “Gale doesn't want to help?” he asked carefully, dumping some foam over the brim and into the runoff trough.

“Gale's not dumb enough to agree to cleaning up Abernathy's office.”

“But I am?” he scoffed, taking a swig from his cup. “Thanks for that.”

“I'll just ask Delly then,” she said with a shrug.

“No, I'll do it,” he said too quickly, grimacing at his eagerness.

She nodded, a faint smile slanting her lips. “See you at closing then,” she said, and he could only sigh as he watched her walk away.

She wasn't kidding when she said that Haymitch Abernathy was a slob. His office was littered with purchase orders, glass bottles, and straight up litter. They'd already cleared out three bags worth of garbage and had barely put a dent in the mess.

Peeta buried his face in his sleeve to filter the stench in the musky air. “What did you do exactly to get roped into this?” he said as she tied off another garbage bag.

“I volunteered,” she said simply.

“Why would you do that?” he said with an incredulous laugh.

Katniss struggled with the bottom drawer of Haymitch's dented filing cabinet. Wiggling the handle roughly before it ripped open with a metallic screech. “Because,” she said, tossing Peeta a fifth of Wild Turkey. “He does a terrible job of keeping inventory.”

It took another hour to finish clearing out the office, and they celebrated by cracking open the bottle of whiskey.

The sky was dark, and it was too cloudy to see any stars. The concrete slab in front of the main office was cool and almost felt damp in the humid air. Peeta leaned against the weathered siding of the building, his head lulling back as he let the liquor dull his mind.

“What are you doing when summer's over,” he asked her, when the silence between them didn't feel so comfortable anymore.

Katniss hugged her knees to her chest even though it was too hot out to feel cold. “Working,” she said. “The park is open year round for Halloween and Christmas and fairs and stuff.”

“You're not going to college?”

She shrugged. “What's the point?”

“I'm going to New York,” he said, wincing when he took another drink from the bottle. “To art school.”

“That sounds like a waste,” she mumbled under her breath.

He scoffed. “You sound like my mother.”

“Sorry,” she said, accepting the bottle from him. “It's just, unless you strike it big – like one in a million, it doesn't seem very practical.”

“I'll be one in a million then.”

“You couldn't do that.” She shook her head then took a swig. “You're not broody enough. You're still too superficial.”

He was preparing to argue with her until he realized that he couldn't. Everything in his life thus far had been fairly superficial. Even his attraction to her. He hadn't eve spoken to her until a few weeks ago, and before that he had been entirely convinced that he was in love with her. But he wasn't. Not with his version of her anyway. He'd always been going through to motions of how he thought life was supposed to be, which was why after 18 years, when he left his life behind him, he wouldn't be missing anything.

“Still waiting for that great inspiration, I guess,” he said after a long moment.

“I was wrong about you,” she said, pressing the bottle into his palm. “You're plenty broody.”

He watched the amber liquid swish around in the glass. She thought she had him all figured out, and he bet he could figure her out too. “What're you going to do when they shut this place down?”

“Work at Capitol,” she said.

“And if that goes under?”

“Find another park.”

“And if every amusement park shuts down?” he continued to prod.

“This hypothetical world doesn't seem to like fun.”

“There must be something else that you want out of life,” he said, shaking his head, unconvinced.

“I don't want anything, really. I don't need anything either, and that's all that I'm looking for.”

“So you decide to surround yourself with people who escape life in search of fleeting happiness?”

“Have you ever been on the roller coaster here?” she said arching an eyebrow incredulously. “That's not happiness.”

“Okay then.” He took another drink. “What's your favorite ride then?” he asked, wiping a drop of whiskey that was running down the side of his chin with the back of his hand.

Katniss pursed her lips, her silver eyes glossy beneath the lamps that lit the sidewalk. “The Pirate Ship,” she said after a moment, a laugh already bubbling in her chest.

Peeta found himself laughing too, and jabbed her playfully with his elbow. “The Pirate Ship? Really? I figured you'd pick one of those rides where they set you on fire or slingshot you a thousand feet into the air.”

“Those rides don't even exist,” she argued.

“None of the other rides seem dangerous enough for you.”

“Why do you think I'm looking for danger?” she said, resting her chin on her knees, her eyes gazing at him innocently. “I'm only trying to get by, really.”

“Maybe it's the effect you have.”

She bit her lip, rolling it between her teeth, and he thought maybe that was his queue to kiss her, but then she was abruptly springing to her feet.

“Let's go,” she said, extending her hand to him. “We're going to go ride the Pirate Ship.”

Peeta followed behind, reluctantly, not quite ready to abandon the moment they were sharing. The Pirate Ship ride was on the far side of the park, and the brisk pace Katniss was walking at didn't help settle the alcohol in his stomach. When they reached it, she directed him to sit in the furthest row, and began flipping switches to bring the machine to life.

The bulbs along the bars that attached the gondola to the pendulum began to burst with flashes of light, so bright that it was eery in the silent park. Katniss pulled the break lever and the boat lurched forward slightly with a loud creak. She turned one last dial before the boat began to swing.

“Wait!” Peeta said, clutching tightly onto the metal lap bar in front of him. “Are you coming too?”

She smirked, still lingering behind the operating stand. The ride was still only rocking with shallow swings, but every time the boat pulled back it was lifting a little higher. Finally, she leaped off the platform, landing in his row as the boat swept by.

“So are you just going to jump again when you're ready to get off?” he asked, still skeptical about the whole thing.

“Are you crazy? It's on a timer.”

The swinging gondola at Capitol was bigger. It was twelve rows, as opposed to six, and was some pharaoh like, Egyptian theme. It could also swing so high that Peeta could have swore it flipped all the way over. The Pirate Ship at Arena was not _nearly_ as impressive. That was until Katniss Everdeen was sitting beside him.

“Why is this ride your favorite?” he asked, admiring the way the lights sparkled in her eyes each time they swung higher and higher.

“This moment,” she said. “Right here,” she said, right as the boat paused at its peak then dropped, leaving him weightless. Floating briefly before soaring down to the earth. Peeta had been familiar with the sensation before. Flying. A fleeting feeling he was always chasing after.

But he knew where to find it now.

He waited for the boat to swing back again, right at the peak when there was nothing but darkness below them. Then he turned to kiss her, her lips melting to his as they began to fall freely.

Her expression was unreadable when he pulled away. Some mixture of surprise and confusion, and maybe anger for all he could tell. Peeta braced himself on the handrail, certain that she was plotting to throw him overboard.

“Was that okay?” he said carefully, still trying to gauge her reaction.

She was silent, probably set on never speaking to him again. Her eyes were locked frozen on his lips. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I just really wanted to kiss y–” but then she was kissing him again, her fingers tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck.

She hummed approvingly against his lips, her tongue licking into his mouth in languid strokes that made his groin tighten. With every swing of the ride he needed to be closer to her. Needed the feel of her wrapped around him and the welcoming heat between her legs. Soon she was pressed between him and the guardrail. Her thighs straddling his hips, and his hands at her waist, holding her firmly against him.

At the next peak, his hips lifted from the bench, bucking against her with a friction that offered momentary relief to his straining erection. His cock was throbbing to be inside her, so much so that he could hardly see straight.

“Fuck, Katniss,” he groaned into her hair when her hips rolled against his thigh.

He slipped his hand between where their bodies were woven together, his fingers dipping between her legs to rub her through her khaki shorts.

“You sure you don't want anything?” he murmured, latching his lips to suck on her pulse point as they road through the next peak. “Do you want me to touch you?” She cried out, nodding frantically in response. “I'm going to make you fly, Katniss.”

His other hand untangled from her hair, sliding down her body to tuck beneath the hem of her loose fitting polo. He rolled up the material, exposing new spans of olive flesh until he reached her breasts.

He sighed at the sight. The soft mounds concealed behind thin, pale colored fabric. He held one experimentally in his palm, plying and molding it between his fingers until her nipple was pebbled into a hardened peak. Then he lavished the other breast with the same attention. Her fingers dug sharply into the muscles along his shoulders, guiding his ministrations with appreciative tugs and moans.

The height of the car's swings began to ebb too soon. Each sway drawing closer to the platform. Peeta began to panic. He wanted to make her come before the thrill of the ride died down. He wanted her to think of him, of this, every time she felt this high.

He undid the button of her shorts deftly, pushing them aside to slip his fingers into her underwear. Her folds were slick with want and he coated his fingers in her arousal, using it as lubricant to draw tight circles around her clit.

“You sure you don't want anything, Katniss?” he grunted, his finger swirling fervently against her.

“I want you,” she admitted, and her entire body shuddered against his hand.

The words were the most beautiful he had ever heard and he buried his face in her shoulder to muffle his groan. All the passion in his life that he had been missing suddenly consumed him. In the way he kissed her, the way his fingers moved inside her, drawing her to an orgasm just as the ride began to still.

Her breathing was still labored, her chest rising and falling in shallow pulses. Her tongue swept across her swollen lips, and she sat back on her heels to look at him.

“You ready to get off?” she asked when the ride was mostly still.

His eyes were too hooded to focus on anything, and all he could do was chuckle. “You have no idea.”

She rolled her eyes and began to climb off his lap. She'd have to engage the break to bring the ride to a stop fully. Before she could regain her balance, he caught her elbow, pulling her back against his chest for another heated kiss. “Take your clothes off,” he said. “I want to go again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Hollies "The Air That I Breathe." Sorry about the smut, I went in with Peeta's POV and then grimaced when I got to the sex stuff because writing from a guy's perspective SUCKS. Thanks for reading!


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